I Wonder If I Ever Cross Your Mind
by Scription Addict
Summary: Grace has had a bad day and she needs a friend. From Grace's POV. For CatS81's birthday, have a lovely day.


**I wonder if I ever cross your mind.**

For Cats81's birthday 2014, hope you have a lovely day.

Grace has had a bad day, she needs a friend and only one person springs to mind. Grace's P.O.V.

Boyd/Grace

Disclaimer – I own nothing.

* * *

I have no idea how this will end, I only know how it began, with a dream.

I dreamt I was lying in your arms. You were holding me, laying behind me, my shoulders against your chest, your arms around me and your hand flat against my stomach. I could feel your breath against my neck every time you breathed out and your beard tickling my skin when you moved. Then I opened my eyes and I was alone in bed, you weren't here, you weren't holding me, comforting me, I was alone, and afraid. Why did I open my eyes, it was all so real.

The next time I see you I'm crying, you hold me in your arms, your touch firm yet, oh so tender. Your hands rub my back soothingly and you gently kiss my hair. Your shirt is damp from the tears I've cried whilst you have held me, I feel stupid, but I really have had the day from hell. I pull away from you and put my hands over my red, puffy eyes, but you pull my hands away and gently wipe my eyes with your thumbs. You smile tenderly at me and indicate with your head for me to follow you. You take my hand and lead me into your lounge where we sit on the large sofa together. We talk for ages, well I say we, but really I suppose I mean me. But you're a great listener, and you listen with interest as I tell you about my day. the unidentified lump that I'd found, the first doctor who was unable to quell my fears, the hospital appointment, the blood tests, the scan and the possible outcomes, and the most likely outcome. As I finish talking all my fears bubble up to the surface again, and the flood gates open. You pull me into your arms, it's not the first time, it's not even the first time today, but those big strong arms have never been as comforting as they are tonight. My eyes are tightly closed as I sob against your chest, and despite my rapidly failing sense of smell, I can still make out your expensive cologne. I lift my head up gently and open my eyes to look at you, but you're gone. Once again I'm cold and alone, the solitary occupant of my large double bed, the pillow case is wet from the tears I've cried in my sleep, the tears that continue to fall now that I'm awake.

I long to be in your arms, for you to hold me, to comfort me, the dreams may not be real, but the need, the desire is as real as I am. As real as I wish you had been.

I can't stand it anymore, I need to talk to someone, to unburden myself, to allay my fears. I need to talk to someone! To anyone! To you!

I dress hurriedly, drag a comb through my wiry hair, but then my thoughts start to wander and the fear rises again. What if I need radiotherapy? Chemotherapy? What if I lose my hair? A loud sob escapes and I cover my mouth with my hands to silence myself. I need you so much!

The roads are clear and I drive a little faster than I should, not caring if I get caught by speed cameras, what's three pints on my license if I'm dying. I need to get to you, it's all I can think about, I want to throw myself into your arms, I want you, no, I need you to make me feel safe.

Your street is quiet, but then at 3.30 am why wouldn't it be. Most of the houses are in darkness, one or two have lights softly illuminating them, the occasional shadow passing behind drawn curtains. Not yours though, yours is in total darkness, not even the dim glow of a night light can be seen from your house. We've been friends along time, and I've spent many an evening with you in this house, evenings when we've put the world to rights over a bottle or two. So it's without a second thought that I do what I've always done, I pull onto your driveway. It isn't until the front of your house is lit up like a football stadium under floodlights, that I remember the security lights that cover the front and rear of your property.

Before I can even put the car in reverse I see the curtains in an upstairs room move, and I know you've seen me. It's too late to change my mind! I've not even turned off the engine when your hallway is suddenly bathed in light, and I look up to see you open your front door. You stand in the door way wearing a plain white tee shirt and what looks suspiciously like a pair of pyjama bottoms. You look worried, you hold your hands out with the palms up and shrug your shoulders, silently questioning the reason for my late night visit.

It's now or never!

I get out of the car and lock it, before turning to face you. I'm about to speak, but you beat me to it.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

"Can I come in?" I ask shyly.

"Of course." You reply and step back for me to walk in.

"Pyjama bottoms Boyd, I'm impressed."

"Don't be, strictly for emergencies only."

"Aha!"

"Grace is something wrong?"

"Sort of, I needed to talk to you."

"About what?"

"I need to ask you something."

"Well don't keep me in suspense."

"Do you ever think about me?"

"What the bloody hell? It's the middle of the night and you've just turned up on my doorstep to ask me if I think about you?"

"I had this dream, and then another, and I was thinking about you, and I wondered if you ever think about me?"

You breathe out impatiently. "You turn up on my doorstep and scare the shit out of me, to ask whether I ever think about you?"

"I'm sorry! I should never have come here."

"No, wait, you're here now." You exhale slowly before continuing. "Why don't I make you a cup of tea and we can talk."

I nod my head at you in agreement. You disappear and return some minutes later with steaming mugs of tea. "Do you want a little something in that?" You ask pointing to a bottle of scotch on the side.

"You must have read my mind." I reply.

"So what's this all about Grace?"

"I've had a bit of crap day, and I really didn't want to be alone."

"Why have you had a crap day?" You enquire softly.

"I um…" I hesitate, and then remember that you're the first person I've told, apart from the doctor. "I found a lump…" The words catch in my throat and before I know it I'm crying. You look stunned, unsure of how to react. "Could you hold me? Please?" I manage to say, and without hesitation you comply. It's a tender moment, you speak words of comfort to me, but I hear nothing except the soothing beat of your heart through your chest.

"You should have told me, I would have come with you."

"I think I was in shock. I was so sure I could handle it on my own."

"That's understandable."

"But when I got home I wanted someone to talk to. Actually that's not true, I didn't want to talk to just anyone, I wanted to talk to you."

I pull away from you and we sit back on the sofa together, I lean against you and you keep one arm around me. We talk and once again I tell you about my day, the doctors, the tests, the scans, I tell you everything.

"So what happens now?" You ask me.

I misunderstand the question. "I go home I suppose."

"No I don't mean that, I mean with the tests, when do you get the results and what happens then?"

"Oh I see, I thought you'd had enough of me babbling on."

"Never."

You can't see my face from this angle, but I'm smiling, quietly relieved that you're not asking me to leave. "Well, the results shouldn't take too long, they'll phone me when they have some news."

"Did they give you any idea what it could be?"

"They say what it might be, what it could be and what it's likely to be, but until they get the results they can't say for certain what it is."

"I'll come with you, when you get the results."

"You don't need to."

"I want to." You say quietly, you sit forward and then turn to face me. "You're _always_ in my thoughts Grace."

I'm confused. "What?" I ask.

"When you arrived, you asked me if I ever think about you. Well I do, all the time."

I blush a little, I don't really know what to say, how to respond. "You don't have to say that."

"I'm not just saying it, it's true."

I have no idea why, but for some reason your words start me off again and the tears start to stream down my face. This time you don't need to be asked, you pull me into your arms and hold me as I cry. "I'm sorry." I blub at you.

"You've nothing to be sorry for." You tell me as you continue to sooth me. I remain in your arms for several minutes, until the tears gradually stop. "Okay?" You ask me, and I nod my response.

It's almost like an art form, the way you manage to move your lips to mine whilst still holding me in your arms. It takes me a little by surprise at first, but you're so gentle that I find it impossible to be offended by your actions.

You pull away slowly and softly, and I rest my forehead gently against yours. My eyes still closed, tightly closed, and this time I'm not going to open them, if it's a dream I don't want to wake, and if it's real I never want it to end.

* * *

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?  
For me it happens all the time.

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now.  
Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now.  
And I don't know how I can do without.  
I just need you now.

Title taken from the song Need You Now by Lady Antebellum.


End file.
